Lost
by nosirrah95
Summary: "She had never been broken. Never been this scared... Before now... The smell of terror. The taste of desperation...The slow collapse of a heart withers away at the soul. Like the sun beating on the ice, fear slowly melts the sanity."
1. Chapter 1  Found

**A/N: Right. Okay, hi, everyone. -heh heh- Nervous laughter. Okay, so, if this ISN'T your first nosirrah story, and you are one of my faithfuls, I am SO SORRY for my lack of updates (if it is your first, HI! and oh yeah... disregard this first chunk) Honestly. I've been in a bit of a writers block (happens) and then last night I got a dream for this idea (THANK YOU DREAM FAIRY) and I think it's one of the best so far. So Enjoy.**

Note to all: It starts from the middle of the story, so, bear with me. Don't give up. It's going to be so AMAZING. Seriously. LOL.

* * *

A quiet urgency of adrenaline pulsed through Tony as they fought their way through the pile of debris on the floor. Broken chairs, glass, bundled up sheets, clothes and trash all mixed together and spilled our across the dank room. They cleared the first floor, then turned on the staircase leading to the basement. Tony and McGee share a nod, and Tony goes down first, trying not the squeak the stairs too audibly.

In one fluid movment, Tony kicks the door down with a smash. The urgency roasting in the pit of his stomach is suddenly replaced by a flush of rage. Ziva is lying on a tiny dirty cot, gagged and ziptied to the metal frame. A man stands above her, dressed oddly in blue scrubs, laughing quietly to himself and stroking her cheek. Before he can stop himself, Tony launches himself at the man.

"Tony!" McGee cries in astonishment, looking desperatley from Ziva, to Tony on top of the man, who is beating the deranged doctor. Crunches of joints and bone echo around the small basement. McGee rushes forward and grabs Tony shoulder, but he is ignored. Now McGee has to use all his strength to pull his parter off the bleeding, but laughing man. McGee renches him up at last, and turns Tony to face him. "Ziva needs you right now." he whispers and then proceeds to pull up the other man and slam him against the cinderblock wall. Tony blinks at Ziva, whose eyes are squeezed shut.

Tony reaches for her face, but Ziva shrinks away with a little shriek.

"Zi...?" Tony whispers, hand back now. Ziva shakes her head, eyes still shut. "Ziva, it's me." he pulls open a knife to cut her restraints; the zip ties snap open. With the noise, Ziva flinches back again. He gently tries to remove the bundled white cloth in between her teeth. Ziva finally opens her eyes, which are wide, pupils dialated with fear. She gasps for air as she takes in Tony.

"T-t-t-Tony?" She finally stutters.

"Yeah, we need a bus and police car at-" McGee barking orders into his cellphone cause both the agents to jump, one more than the other.

"Zi..." Tony breathes, unsure what to say. Her eyes are stained with tears and dirt, along with little razor blade scratches on her cheeks, neck, and jawline. The brown eyes that stare back at him are unfamiliar. Lost.

* * *

**5**** days before **

The 6 women leered out over the bullpen from the plasma television. 2 FBI agents, a petty officer, three Pentagon officers, and a police officer. All dead. Same MO, and everyone was working on it. And when they say everyone, they mean _everyone_. Infact, the team could not remember a time NCIS had been so full. Different faces began trickling in and out of every familiar NCIS haunt. Police officers were caught in Abby's lab, FBI agents in autopsy. Everything was a little off, but they were slowly merging together. Seeing that the petty officer was the first found dead, the three agencies agreed to work together after the first FBI agent and police officer were found dead.

An unfamiliar face sits at McGee's computer, as another dictates information to him from a nearby desk chair.

"Rollins, Tobey..." Ziva nods as she walks past, then takes a seat at her own desk. The two, both FBI agents, nodded back. A jittery Police Officer flew in suddenly, someone Abby had apperently gotten ahold of. She was clutching a huge CAF-Pow and humming a techno song.

"Hello, Ziva." The woman giggled. She was young, short and wiry, had large green eyes and spiky black hair.

"Katie." Ziva said sharply. She was in a bad mood. The police officer sighed sadly then made her way to Abby's lab. Ziva huffed herself as (finally) a familiar face came in.

"Someones in a bad mood." Tony commented slyly as he slid into his own chair. She arched a thin eyebrow at him, but didn't dignify the comment with an answer. He scoffed. "Well, unlike _some_ people, I actually found something."

"Hmm?"

"Our serial killer left a partial on one of his victim's shoe."

"Abby knew that two days ago." Ziva retorted.

"Oh-ho-ho, that is true, probette, but she did NOT know that the partial is matched to another on the FBI agent Lopez."

"Yes...she did. She just told Gibbs half an hour ago. I was there." Tony frowned.

"Oh."

"Look. Tony. I got the sketch of our murderer."

"You think a serial murderer who tortures and then kills government women would be a little smarter and not have any witnesses." Tony said as Ziva pulled out the sketch.

"This is the man that Lopez was last seen with."

"Name?" Ziva shook her head. "The press wants something, Ziva."

"You think that is my fault?" Ziva growled loud enough for the two other agents to glance over at the pair. It was true, the case was a press hotbed at this point. She rolled her eyes. "We do not even have a suspect." she said, more to herself than to Tony. "McGee already put the BOLO out. This is an absolutley battling case."

"Baffling." At this, Ziva sighed. "Look, the _guy _had to have slipped up somewhere. Maybe we're not looking at this right." Tony said. Ziva began pacing as he watched her.

"Serial killer. Same MO everytime. Not feature focused-" she nodded at the women, all who were very different looking "it seems only government employees are his target."

"MO is..." Tony interjected, and began tapping a pencil against the palm of his hand. "torture of almost every possible mindset before a single bullet to the right temple. Water boarding. Slicing. He know the...the mentality of the entire scheme. And of course, we have the pictures." with a click of the pointer, six different pictures flew up. All the same, just a singular shot of the woman's face, which was covered in tiny little razor slashes, eyes swollen shut, lips shredded. Ziva shuddered as she looked at them.

"We need to catch him before this happens again." She said quietly.

**A/N: Well? Did you like it? Hate it? Either way (or somewhere in between) review! Alert! All that magical stuff. **


	2. Chapter 2 Fears

**A/N: I think this is the best chapter so far! (just kidding) Review! Review! :D **

The flashing of the cameras were absolutley blinding.

"What the hell?" McGee mutters as he pulls open the door of the house, clutching the mysterious man vicelike on the arm. His fingers were probably going to leave a bruise. Not like anyone cared. "Someone tipped off the press." he called back to Tony and Ziva. Ziva was curled up in Tony's arms threshold style. She winced slightly at the journalists cries. There had to be at least 30 of them, swarmed around the entrance to the boarded up house. Tony stops and tightened his gri McGee squinted back into the flashing bulbs. A moment later, a couple of Police officers come to McGee's aid.

"Hey, Get out of the way!" The officer Katie barks angrily at the camera men. She grabs the other arm of the "doctor," with an equally tight grasp.

"Who wants a quote?" the man is scrubs asks the crowd with a cocky smile. The voices erupt back up at him with more gusto.

"You shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you." McGee growls into his ear dangerously and pushes him forward. The man chuckles and steps into the large group.

"Ziva." Tony whispers down at her. She tightens her own grip on his windbreaker. "Are you okay?" She thinks about this for a second, then shakes her head. A few more officers join them in the filthy living room.

"Ready?" One asks. Tony clutches Ziva closer and nods. They guide them out of the doorway, and then the world is ablaze with calls.

_"Agent DiNozzo, Agent DiNozzo, what are your reactions to this event?"_

_"Is the man in the scrubs the serial killer?"_

_"Agent David, any comments?"_

_"Where is Agent Gibbs?"_

They push through the sea of bodies and finally arrive at the ambulance. Ziva stares up at the flashing golden and red lights, unblinking. A EMT jogs over and pulls a gurney from the rear of the bus. Tony gently lowers Ziva onto it, and only then realizes she is shaking hysterically.

"Zi, it's okay, it's over." he says quietly to her. Her teeth chatter in silent response. Tony jumps into the back of the vehicle and they slam the soors shut.

When they reach the hospital, Ziva is pushed into a sleek, shiny white hallway, Tony and McGee trailing behind closely. She looks around, takes one look at a doctor at the end of the hall and coming towards her, and all of a sudden, lets out a terrified scream. She pushes herself back towards the end of the gurney. The EMT's stop out of confusion, and the doctor moves faster. Ziva screams again and shuts her eyes, shaking her head.

"Zi?" Tony asked, concern filling his deep voice. He looks up at the doctor, and suddenly understands."It's the scrubs..." he whispers and McGee runs to the doctor, stopping him. Tony takes another step closer to Ziva, who sees him and latches her arms around his chest.

"Tony..." she sobs desperatley. "You s-s-said it was over!" she cries and holds him tighter.

"Ziva, it is, I promise. Nothing can hurt you now." he strokes her head care fully, speaking the soothing words calmly. He sees McGee pull the doctor out of sight. "See, look?" Ziva turns her face and sniffles, but another sob shakes her small frame.

"Don't...go..." she cries softly, but pulls away and lies back down on the gurney.

"Ziva." Tony says, half laughing "I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

**3 days before.**

**1500 hours 12 minutes**

Ziva taps away on her keyboard, in a much better mood. They had found a lead, and now were in the process of tracking him down.

"Kevin Hether, you sure are a slimey one." she mutters to herself, and looks up at the screen, where his drivers liscense is posted, with a mischeivious grin. A moment later she smacks the desk triumphantly.

"ah HA! You thought you could run..." She stands and looks around for Gibbs. McGee raised his eyebrows at her from across the bullpen.

"FInd something?"

"Yes!" she cries and claps her hands. "Where's Gibbs?" she asks.

"Right here." he says as he walks in.

"I still do not understand how you do that." Ziva mutters. "But, I found our killer?"

"Didja now?"

"Yes. Well, I found...a suspect. A lead. Whatever."

"Well, you know what to do. Go get 'em. McGee?"

"Got it, Boss." McGee says and attatches his 9mm into his holster.

**A/N: ...yes? no? kinda? maybe? sorta? confused? satisfied? update? (those were all possible reviews. So use one!)**


	3. Chapter 3 Faith

**A/N: Hello everyone, I first have a few things to point out about this story. One, I know the tenses are screwed up, I'm sorry, you can deal with it or just not read the story. Second, someone pointed out that the time frame didn't seem long enough to fudge up Ziva so much, so I changed it because they were TOTALLY right (thank you CharmedAli!) If you want to see the changed time frames PLEASE check the last few chapters. Thirdly, I do proofread, I just miss a few things. I'm only human. Again, deal with my mistakes or just don't read it. And finally, just to tell everyone the story is going back and fourth through time, like switching from before the kidnapping to after. There was some confusion there. Sorry for this really long A/N, and if you read it, right on!  
_Okay, THANK YOU TO ALL THESE AMAZING PEOPLES:_  
****Nicoya456, kar328, VeryVerySpecialAgentMarriiaa, spritepie, luckysparks, Number9fan, LunaZola, smndolphin, SuzyloveCSIMiami, quokka, EMT1215, CharmedAli, blarney, Atlante41, Haliey1711, AriRoxUrSox17, montydam, Mantha2lovesyou, rachelahavah, CTTAYLOR13, HyperHippo, jsq, The Butterfly Mistress, WriterK83, emily-brat, ****grace.06, AryaChristi, and I Want A Pet Wombat  
It's so cool to see all these old fans and then new ones too. Thank you all so much I LOVES you! Pokeydokey then, here ya go: **

Ziva's arms were wrapped around her knees tightly as she stared at the bare wall across from her. She rocked only slightly, her eyes dry and itchy, all the tears she could possibly have, shed. Her mind kept returning to that basement. The cold blade. The smothering, the water, the darkness. The hours upon hours of torture. Sure, she had lived through torture before, but it was rarely this severe, this ongoing. Her thoughts were flooded with the man in the scrubs, laughing and whispering things to her. She whimpered aloud, and clenched and unclenched her fists. Small chunks of memories of what had happened just before the kidnapping began to float back into her conciousness.

_"McGee?" Ziva asked the empty hallway. It was concrete, stained and damp. "McGee!" Ziva whispered urgently. There was a crash towards the back of the house. Ziva jumped and spun around in the other direction. She crept down the dank walkway and around a corner, where the kitchen sat empty._

_"Ziva!" A voice said from behind her and she spun faster, almost smacking McGee in the face. He was breathing heavily, gasping for precious oxegyn._

_"McGee? What was that noise?"_

_"You heard it too? I was outside, I though it was-" he paused to take another gasp in. "it was you." _

_"No. But there is something off about thi-" She was cut off by McGee's grunt as he crumpled to the floor. And then it was darkness._

"Hey." a voice said quietly from the doorway of the hospital room, making Ziva jump. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Ziva blinked up at McGee, who was looking worried, but extremely uncomfortable at the same time.

"McGee." her voice came out as barely a whisper.

"I'm so sorry, it's just that I...I don't know what I was thinking, it's all my fault, and I don't know what I could have done different but I should have done something and Ziva, I'm so sorry." his words came out in a rush, as they had a habit of doing when he was nervous. She smiled, but was sure the small movement came out as a grimace.

"I know." she said quietly.

But she wasn't sure she was.

* * *

An hour later McGee had left in a whirlwind of apologies, leaving Ziva to lay back into the crisp scratchy sheets and stare emotionless at glowing screen of the TV. At six minutes past 3AM, a doctor walked in, but wearing his streets.

"Hello, Ziva." he said quietly with a kind smile. "How are you doing?" she shrugged, barely. "Well, if you would like, we can release you. Your injuries are more mental than physical. I'm surprised you aren't more traumatized."

_Idiot_ Ziva hissed silently in her head. _Can he not see I am weak? I am weak! _

"You can leave whenever you would like, Ziva." he finished. Ziva stared at him, and felt some slight tremors beggening again. She gripped the sheets tightly. She thought of Tony. "We want you to go to twice weekly therapy sessions, and I can perscribe some anti-depressants if you need them."

"Okay. Thank you." Ziva said meekly. He walked from the room and she sunk back into the pillow, curling into a little ball. She whimpered and felt another wave of tears coming on.

"Ziva?" A voice said quietly from the doorway. Ziva looked uo to a very tired and tear-stained Abby, her hair hanging loose from her head, eye makeup gone, eyes red and puffy.

"Abby." Ziva said, her voice cracking with a sob. This brought on a pure tsunami of crying from Abby. She tiptoed forward and pulled Ziva into a sweet and gentle hug, not her usual bone-crushing one.

"Ziva, I'm so sorry." Abby cried. Ziva was grateful for the hug, and squeezed back, some of the tension fading from her shoulder. Abby sat down on the bed, and they sat there uintil dawn, crying together.

* * *

Tony sat at his desk as the gray morning light began to crawl around the desks. The files. The chairs. The empty coffee cups.

Tony didn't want to move. He didn't want to go anywhere. He didn't want to talk to anyone.

He just wanted to know Ziva was okay.

But he had a strong feeling she wasn't.

And never would be.


	4. Chapter 4 Family

**A/N: shmargah! I've gotten alot of requests about Gibbs and where in the world he has gone to! I don't know, but now he's back. And this is tricky for me, I'm not great with the entire father-daughter writing relationship. Give me some angst, I'm down, but this sugar-pie-honey-bunch...awkward. PLUS! This is a Tiva story so can we back off the Gibbness? There won't be much. And _please_ for the love of all goodness, _review! _**

Ziva had been relieved to get into some real clothes, although she hadn't had much of a shower since the ordeal (something she was craving desperatley; there was nothing she would like more to scrub and scrub the filth of that man off of her.) She had finally gotten some of her own clothes, and was wearing her favorite pair of sweats and a t-shirt that was too big on her. She looked a little frumpy, but at the moment, she felt "frumpy" was all she deserved. She sat on top of the scratchy hospital bed, wishing she could go home, but at the same time, didn't want to be alone.

Ziva had turned quiet, but not her normal sharp silence when she was angry, or the strong wordlessness when she was thinking. Reserved, secluded from reality. It was as though her soul had been removed, crumpled, ripped, beaten, and scarred, then returned to her exausted body. The blood that ran through her veins had turned cold, the words that escaped her lips had no meaning, she ate, but did not taste, touched, but could not feel. She had no escape.

People had been trickling in and out all day, Ducky, who had been his usual plucky self, Tony, who she suspected was still somehwere in the hospital, Abby, who was still depressed. The only person she hadn't seen at all was Gibbs.

Gibbs had been in England, and if him being there _alone_ wasn't strange enough, he was also leading the investigation of a Navy Seal murdered in London. She sighed and thought some more.

Home. She considered the word. Where was it truly? Israel, no, for obvious reasons; her Father still respected her, but she had felt detatched from her entire family since Somalia. Maybe NCIS? Sure, she supposed. But it wasn't NCIS itself, more the people. The team. Was that her home? Maybe family. But then, where was her home? The break room was not her kitchen, her desk not her bedroom. She shook her head. Home...

Family. Had she ever truly had one? Yes, at one time. She had, in the past, blood related people she lived with, laughed withed, loved. But that, that was in the _past. _How about now?

Abby: her sister. Gibbs: her father. McGee: Her brother. Ducky: her grandfather. Palmer? a distant weird cousin, but family none-the-less.

Tony? her brow furrowed.

Tony.

"Ziver." a voice said from the door suddenly. She looked up and her stomach twisted from relief.

"Gibbs.." was all she could squeak, before she was engulfed in the rough black fabric of his overcoat.

* * *

_-Back at NCIS-_

"I'm sorry, Tony, you and the team cannot work on this case. It's gotten too personal. I don't know if it's just to let _anyone_ from NCIS work on it. I'm considering calling in the FBI, for God sakes, I have to forbid Fornell on this one too." Tony looked ahead grimly. "It's just too personal." Vance repeated.

"Where's the guy?"

"I'm not allowed to divulge that informartion. You know that."

And without another word, Tony walked out of the office.

All of NCIS was a little off since the incident. Abby's lab was silent, no familiar booming techno, as she tapped mindlessley on her computers, pulling up cold cases to kill time. In contrast. Ducky's usual quiet morgue, was filled with the harminous sounds of classical music, coming from a record player he had brought in, the music scratchy sounding, but good. In the bullpen, there was none of the usual banter, no McNicknames, no teasing, no pranking. In fact, the entire building was in a little bit of a shock. Sure, for them, the others, things would come back around, there would be knew scuttlebutt, new dramatic cases.

But not for the team. They were forever marked, forever burdened by the memory of Ziva, tied up, broken.

* * *

Ziva soon found herself alone again. But not for long. Soon there was talk, the annoying talk in between two people as though the third party, or, the one they are disscussing, has ceased to exsist. Talk that Ziva had to go home. But Ziva refused to go alone, the only thing she had requested since she got to the hostpital, not to be alone. There was arguments over chaperones. Escorts. People taking her in. All the team, of course.

Finally, a decision was made.

"Zi, are you alright?" Tony said as he walked in. She managed a weak smile and slid off the bed, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders, her face without makeup. She knew she looked awful, but she didn't care. The only thing she picked up was the throw blanket someone had delivered to her from home, and she walked into Tony's awaiting arms, slipping under one, and leaning against him.

Tony looked down at her tired face, at the thin slivers still scattered on her cheeks, the delicate purples of bruises blossoming along her jawline and neck. Her eyes were heavy, he doubted she had been getting much sleep. As though she had been reading his mind, she yawned to hit that point home.

"Are you sure your okay?" Tony asked in the car ride home.

"I need a shower and some sleep." she replied quietly, then pulled her knees up to her chest, and let out another yawn. When they reached Tony's apartment, Ziva allowed him to help her up the stairs, a supportive arm slunk around her waist. She felt as though maybe, under different circumstances, this might have been awkward, walking into his apartment together. But right now, she appreciated the warm hand on her side, the soft hazel eyes watching her protectivley. She made her way to the bathroom, and smiled at the duffel bag full of her belongings sitting on the sink. She shut the door with a click and started the warm water, and soon, the entire bathroom was filled with a perfumey steam.

She scubbed and washed every inch, every centimeter, every hair follicle, fingernail, and tiny little bit of her smooth-almond colored skin until it was rubbed red and raw. Then she allowed the hot water beat down on her gently, soothing her aching muscles with little pattered drum beats. She didn't know how long she had been in there, when the hot water began to cool, and she finally convinced herself to step out and dry off. When she had dressed, she stared at her face in the reflection. Bags under her eyes, face red and splotchy. Her hair was dripping wet, the little beads of condensation swimming down the individual curls. When she watched herself yawn in the mirror, she decided it might be best to go and sleep. She pulled the door open and shuffled to the living room.

"Looking better already." Tony said from the couch, and stood to help her. "You hungry?"

"Not really, no."

"You really should try and eat something."

"I don't want to." she felt like snapping, but couldn't muster the energy. "I want to sleep, is all."

"I know." he whispered.

"Tony." she said, barely allowing the word form in her mouth. "I can't be alone right now." the last word came out bloated in emotion. He took her in his arms and squeezed gently.

"Come on." he said, and led her down the hall. Ziva could feel another bout of tears coming on, but tried with everything she had left to hold them back. She pulled the warm blankets around her and curled up into a tight little ball. Before Tony could say anything more, she fell asleep.

Some time later, Tony came to bed, and as soon as he had laid down, Ziva rolled over and attached herself to him, unconciously. With a little sigh, she leaned her head into the space between his neck and shoulder, and took hold of the front of his t-shirt. She grasped the fabric near his abdomen, clutching the material tightly, as though it was a lifeline. He was her security blanket; she, the desperate, lonely child.

Tony watched her sleep for a bit, her chest raising and falling gently, her eyelids fluttering with hidden dreams, the lashes brushing against her cheeks. She would let out little broken sobs once in a while, and Tony would only hold her tighter.

At one point during the night, her dreams filled with the thoughts she had been analyzing.

"Tony." she muttered aloud, still lost in her dream. _Tony?_

The two mystery words finally clicked internally.

Tony.

Home.

Her eyes shot open.

**A/N: Welll? Did you like it? I've been working really hard on this chapter, harder than anything else I've written on here, and I hope you liked it. Please review! **


	5. Chapter 5 Flashbacks

**A/N: First, I'd like to thank a few of my "faithfuls", a few of you have been reading my stuff since I started, a few I've made friends with, and I just wanted to know you guys _rock_ for sticking with my stories. Thank you ALL So much: jump4joy13, pirate-princess1, tegan-loves-ncis-TIVA, I Want A Pet Wombat, zombieslayer666, Betherzz. You guys have never stopped with the support and reviews and you are all awesome people, and i just have loved getting to know ya'll!  
And major hugs to anyone who also has read, reviewed, alerted, or anything. KEEP IT UP! :)  
I also got an anonymous review from someone named "Holley" that was absolultey one of the sweetest things ever. So, thank you times a billion, i would have replied but, of course, but you honestly rock my socks!****  
IMPORTTANT!  
FYI: italic paragraphs that are centered mean _flashbacks, _and it will be bouncing back and fourth from present to what happened in the basement. So please keep that in mind.**

Ziva woke up a few hours after her realization to the smell of soap, steam, and something else surrounding her. The blanket was still pulled up tightly to her chin. She sighed and shut her eyes again, hoping for a few more moments of sleep, not wondering where Tony was, knowing he was close.

_Ziva blinked awake to a splitting headache. She blinked, looking around her surroundings. It was a dark cement room, water stains creeping up the walls here and there, along with the damp sound of dripping, and the rancid smell of rot. She tried to sit up, but was stopped. She looked down at her body and groaned. There was ropes tightly around her ankles, hands, thighs, stomach, and upper chest, binding her to a thin army cot... and someone had changed her clothes to a tight black dress. She squirmed for a second, trying to find a weakness in the binding. Nothing. Now the panic started to crawl into her stomach, like the water stains covering the walls. What had happened? Where was McGee? Where was her gun? Where was she? Who was her...captor...?  
There was a noise from the stairwell leading to the door, and she saw a beam of light hit the room for a second, then dissapear. Heavy footfalls coming closer. Ziva struggled against the ropes._

A half an hour later, Ziva re-awoke. She didn't want to move. She was happy exactly where she was. She yawned, and wiggled a little bit, her back popping quietly. She glanced at the clock.

9:42

Damn. She had slept a long time. She finally coaxed herself to sit up, and she reached her arms over her head, her shoulders crackling in protest. She flung her feet over the edge of the bed, and buried her toes in the carpet.

"You're up." the voice at the door startled her, quite obviously. "Sorry, I didn't mean to...are you okay?"

"Better." she whispered up at Tony.

"You sure?"

"Not really."

_Oh, it hurt. Hurt alot. At first she had sat in stony silence, trying not to give the man in mysterious scrubs what he wanted._  
_Then he drowned her._  
_And she thought that death had finally come._  
_But she woke up to him reviving her._  
_And he had done it again._  
_And again._  
_And again._  
_And now she was begging.  
She had never been broken.  
Never been this scared._

_Before now._

Ziva greatfully accepted the steaming cup of hot coffee, the rich aroma hugging her like an old friend.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Tony." she admitted. He thought about this.

"Move on." he stated.

"I don't think I can." she said, a sob catching in her throat. Tony scowled, and put an arm around her shoulders, squeezing them.

"You can, Zi, you're stronger than you think you are."

"I do not _feel_ very strong. I'm not sure I want to."

_Her tiresome breathing escaped and returned twice the normal pace. Gasping for release. In the darkest despair. _  
_The twisting and writhing of the captured prisoner_  
_The smell of terror._  
_The taste of desperation._  
_the beating of her life_ _begins to flutter and fade._  
_The slow collapse of a heart withers away at the soul. Like the sun beating on the ice, fear slowly melts the sanity.  
"Please..." she whispers.  
And the man laughs.  
And laughs.  
Breaking the cruel silence of agony.  
_

"It was a close call, that much I know for sure." Ziva says suddenly.

"What was?"

"Three days ago. I know. I was almost gone."

"We would have saved you, Zi."

"Waited a few minutes, and no, you wouldn't have."

"Ziva." he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Please. You can move past this." She blinked up at him.

"Tony. I can't do this."

"You can."

"It won't stop. The thoughts, the noises, the feelings. I can't eat, taste. I can hardly sleep." she said in one rush of a whisper. "I cannot be alone." she finished.

"If you've got someone to hold onto, you'll have no reason to live in fear." he said. She stared back at them.

"I was not expecting something as wise as that to come out of your mouth."

"Movie quote."

"Oh."

It was silent.

_"You are very pretty, Agent David." The man whispered. Ziva winced. "Tell me, what is your role in this world?" Ziva didn't reply. She couldn't.  
"I think I have a very important role in society. I fix people. I teach them lessons." He paused, taking a deep breath. "You see, I am teaching your little friends at NCIS their lesson. That life is...hard. You may never get the result you want. I highly doubt that your partners would want to see you like this. Nor will you like finding your broken body practically on their doorstep. But, that, my lovely, is life."  
Ziva sobbed as she felt the blade again.  
"And life is just not fair."_

Ziva lay on the leather couch, the TV on, but she was staring at the ceiling. She pushed away the repeated phrase floating inside her head.

_life is just not fair..._

She wondered why her mind had not blocked out all the memories. Why they hadn't been pushed away and replaced with a blackout. She wished they had. She curled up into a ball. She had been happy a few hours ago, asleep in Tony's arms, but now she was distant again. And she honestly just wanted to tell someone everything. Every little bit. ANd maybe they could erase it for her.

"Hey, Zi, you hungry?"

"A little bit."

Tony stopped at the edge of the living room, examining Ziva's expression carefully. On the outside, her words seemed distant. But her eyes were pleading for help. He took a deep breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ziva's heart skipped a beat, out of relief, or maybe shock, she didn't know. But she felt the tears again, these ones not sad or fearful. She nodded slowly.

Tony walked to the couch, and pulled her closer to him.

"Consider me your therapist for a day." he said with a smirk. She sniffed and gave him a weak smile that quickly disappeared.

"I don't know how it happened, Tony. It just was so fast. And then...I was...there, and McGee was gone. It was just me and him." He waited as she gathered her thoughts, looking down at her concernedly. "It hurt." she whimpered, then turned her face into his chest with a stifled sob.

Tony held her tighter.

**A/N: Hmm. Okay. I need YOUR help now, leave a review, and tell me what else you want from "Lost"! **


	6. Chapter 6 Fall

**A/N: Hey everyone, so sorry for the crappy updates, I'm doing my best, and just got a new classload with minimal homework and therefore should have more spare time! Yay! Anyways, enjoy, and please please please please please please review:**

Tony was absolutley astonished. He never would have thought in a million years that what was happening right now...would happen. Ziva sat curled in his arms, pressed down by a psyhsical exaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul. She had talked for hours about the ordeal, and he was going over her words in his head, seriously considering killing the man. He had watched the fear soften from her eyes as she spoke, but he knew it would still be there. It would always be there.

He absentmindedly fiddled with her hair, when something caught his eye. When he saw it, her felt another surge of raw anger fill him. Carved into the back of her neck was the word "MINE." He unconciously tightened his grip on her shoulder, causing her to stir.

"Tony?" she yawned. He tried to push the rush of fresh anger to the side, to focus on what was important. "What time is it?" she asked sleepily. He glanced at the glowing red clock on the bookshelf.

"1 in the morning."

"Hmmm..." she sighed and laid back, repositioning her legs so she would be more comfortable. Before he knew it, she was dozing again. He considered his options. Let her sleep like this all night while he laid awake _or_ carry her into the bedroom. He chose the latter, and carefully picked Ziva up. She re-awoke confusedly again, but then just fell back asleep.

When Ziva was in bed happily, Tony returned to the living room. As he sat on the sofa, a recap of the nights game on mute, he twisted words and thoughts over in his mind, they morphed together and fell apart, writhing, torturing.  
_She honestly needs some R and R. _he thought. _But Ziva always said, "I can rest when I'm dead."...huh...that rhymed...  
dead...  
dead.  
it was a close call.  
too close.  
I knew I should have gone with them to the house. We all should have gone. two man team on a serial killer targeting women?  
No, rethink...Ziva shouldn't have gone at all.  
It was your fault.  
Yours._

His mind went blank for a second as he tried to wipe away the thoughts. They naturally flew back again a moment later.

_Mine.  
That scar is going to be there forever.  
No matter what.  
It would always be a memory.  
Carved into her flesh.  
So she wouldn't ever forget.  
But...it's on the back of her neck...she can't see it.  
So it will be a constant memory for all who love her._

__He sat awake until the gray dawn crept up the sides of the apartment, peeking in the windows he hadn't closed. He still hadn't fallen asleep, or even dozed off, when there was a knock at the door, quiet, but still a knock. He stood, wary of the sound, and walked to it, peering through the peephole. He pulled it open, and stepped back.

"What's up McGee?" he asked.

"How's Ziva?"

"Sleeping."

McGee handed Tony one of the two coffees he was carrying.

"Thought you might need this."

"Thanks." It was quiet. McGee leaned against the wall. "McGee, what happened?" Tony finally asked, the question that had been nudging him all night. "How did Ziva get kidnapped?"

McGee looked scared. Scared of what Tony might do. As though Tony was reading his mind, he said: "I'm not going to get mad, McGee, I just want to know. She doesn't remember."

"You _asked _her?"

"She told me everything."

"Damn." He looked up at Tony and sighed. "I don't know how it happened, Tony, I swear. The house was big and empty, nothing in there but these plastic construction sheets hanging down from the ceiling. I hadn't cleared a room, I can't remember why, and then just suddenly, I was waking up on the floor. Ziva was gone." the entire story came out quickly. "I'm sorry."

There was a sudden crash from the back of the apartment, then Ziva swore loudly. Tony walked cautiously down the hall, McGee following.

"Ziva?"

"Morning, Tony." she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her foot. She smiled up at both of them. "Tim, how are you?"

"What was that bang?"

"I tripped and hit my foot."

"You okay?" she nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, I'm starving though." she stood and walked to the doorway. McGee and Tony didn't move. "What?" she asked questioningly.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm good, I feel much better. I want to eat." she said, her eyebrows raised, as though she was surprised they were asking. She walked around them tired of waiting, and swept her hair up in a high ponytail.

"Oh _God_." McGee said when he saw the pink word. Tony looked at him and shook his head slowly; McGee's jaw tightened.

"Pizza in the fridge, Ziva." Tony said, still pointedly looking at Tim. After a second, he followed Ziva, joining her in the kitchen. She had already pulled the box from the fridge, along with a unopened can of Coke, and was consuming both eagerly.

"I don't remember the last time I ate." she said in between bites. Tony and McGee looked at eachother, then busted out laughing. "What?" she demanded intuitavley, her mouth full of pizza.

"I don't remember the last time I've _seen_ you eat." Tony chuckled. She shrugged and took a last bite, ditched the crust, and picked up another piece.

"You know...I think...I want...to...go back to...NCIS." she said, pausing to chew. "I need...to...distract myself." she sighed and took a long drink of Coke, then fell against the counter with a gasp. "_God_ I was hungry."

"I'll say." Tim said, now sitting in one of the kitchen chairs.

* * *

They walked onto their floor, which was quiet. Ziva thought it was strange how her life had changed so drastically, but the world remained the same. The low chatter of people milling around, who all stopped to stare at her for a second. Her face was still purpled in places, there were scrapes up and down her uncovered skin, making it look like she had fallen into a blender. The averted their eyes when she walked briskly into the bullpen.

"Ziva, what are you doing here?" Gibbs asked, looking somewhat surprised, "I was just coming to getcha."

"I came to get my gun."

"For?"

"I need to release some tension. Shooting range." she said simply.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs looked over her shoulder to Tony, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me boss, first I've hear of it." In this moment of distraction, Ziva had walked over to her desk where her gun was awaiting her. She snapped the magazine in, making the rest of them turn to look at her. She padded from the bullpen, daring them to follow her with a glare shot over her shoulder. They stayed put.

* * *

_Smack!_ the gunshot rang in her ears. _Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! _she shot them fast, imagining the man's face where the target was; the bullets dissapeared into the black silloutte. With a deep breath, she lowered the gun, then picked up the spare magazine she had brought with her, and fired off 12 more rounds, then dropped the gun on the counter and fell against the booth wall with a cry, sliding down the slab slowly till she was sitting on the ground, her face buried in her arms.

"What is wrong with me?" she asked desperatley.

**A/N: I just want to say I got the "mine" idea from the new Harry Potter movie (kay, nerd squee here: OH MY GAWD IT WAS SO AMAZING! OH MY GAWWWD) sorry...I know not all of you are potter heads, but that's where I got the initial carving idea...yes, from when Hermione gets mudblood carved into her forearm... Scars being symbols of repressed memories...it's poetic really. **


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